


Care & Keeping

by dragonsong (NekoAisu)



Series: FFXIV Write 2019 [13]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Chronic Illness, Courtship, Flirting, Fluff, Gen, Gender-Neutral Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Illnesses, Injury Recovery, Other, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 00:44:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20787779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NekoAisu/pseuds/dragonsong
Summary: “Are you quite well?”





	Care & Keeping

**Author's Note:**

> For FFXIVWrite 2019!
> 
> Day 14 | Scour
> 
> Tumblr post here: https://ffxivimagines.tumblr.com/post/187737483864/ffxivwrite-2019-prompt-14-care-and-keeping

“Are you quite well?” Alphinaud felt it was a pointless question to ask, given the circumstances, but important enough to voice when the Warrior of Light was laying flat on their back in the middle of Camp Dragonhead.

They do not speak, nor open their eyes. Instead, forcing one cold, trembling hand into some semblance of a thumbs up. 

He blinks at them, worried and unimpressed by their lack of voluntary communication, and asks, “Should I get Ser Haurchefant?”

They shake their head slowly. 

“Then tell me why you are not inside and out of the snow.”

“I feel like chocobo shite, Alphinaud,” they grit out. “Speaking aggravates my nausea.”

The young Elezen pauses to think before asking, “When was the last time you ate?”

“Eight.”

“It’s fifteen, now.”

They snort, indignant. “Had egg and some soup broth. Worked before.”

“It will not work forever,” he chides. “You cannot hold it in good faith that taking so little is a way to get by.”

They do not reply, instead breathing in measured inhales and exhales. Quiet. Tired. 

Alphinaud huffs in a way that suggests impending care rather than annoyance before setting off to find Ser Haurchefant. The Warrior stays in the snow. 

They don’t mind it, truly. They know a bed may have been the better choice between the two, but at least the discomfort of snow melting and soaking through their coat is discomfiting enough to keep them grounded. Awake. In the wintry hell of Ishgardian spring rather than high above their body. 

It feels like flowing in reverse when another wave of vertigo hits them. A headache combined with the rush of something telling them to fall backward, lay down, allow themself to rest. They do not fall. It is something taken from them by Hydaelyn in death and their comrades in life. They have little time to sleep and less still that counts as true rest. So they stay where they are. It is preferable to the many trials of being the Warrior of Light. 

They zone out, somewhere between when their fingers begin to fade from feeling and when Alphinaud shows up with the man of the hour, and don’t register Haurchefant manhandling them into some semblance of uprightness until they dry heave over his shoulder. “You should not be resting in such a place, my friend. Come inside with me.” They lean into him instead and attempt to ignore how every part of their body protests at the very thought of moving so much as an ilm. 

He lifts them with a firm grip and ignores their whining and weak thrashing in favor of walking them into his own quarters, peeling off emery piece of ice-crusted armor, and tucking them into bed. Alphinaud follows them in with a mug of tea and an entire bowl of preserved fruit. “Are they hypothermic?”

“No, but I’ve no idea how. Fury bless them.” Haurchefant beats snow from the fur of their hood before hanging their coat to dry by the fire. He sets about looking for something Alphinaud does not know, scouring the entirety of his chest of drawers, closet, and even between the stack of blankets piled at the foot of his bed. “Have you seen a scarf anywhere?”

“I am afraid not.”

They look for a few minutes more while the Warrior defrosts, mumbling unhappily when Alphinaud helps them sip their way through the proffered chamomile tea. “I could have stayed there, y’know.”

“And become the next Iceheart,” Haurchefant says with a wry smile. “Pray, do not worry me so. I had believed you far worse off than despondent and hungry.”

“‘M chronically ill and hungry,” they point out. “Alphinaud is just sore that it is not something to be solved with scholarly pursuits.” He’s lived within books since he learned of it.”

“Ha ha,” Alphinaud laughs with absolutely no mirth whatsoever. “Forgive me for inquiring after your health.”

The Warrior smiles, small a gesture as it is, and thanks, “You’re a good kid, Alphi. Do not worry after me. You too, Haurche. I will be fine. This happens─” their voice cracks on a yawn “─every so often.” They blink slowly, sleepily, and knock out before either of the two Elezen can say a thing. 

Come morning, they wake to a body pressed soothingly to their back. Haurchefant lays kisses sweetly to their brow (his affections are confusing) over breakfast and helps them back into their armor before patrol, wrapping a well-worn woolen scarf about their throat. “Should you ever search for a place to rest your head, know that my home is yours, my friend.”

“I could scour the world and all that is beyond,” they say, “and nothing would be so precious to me as your company.”

Haurchefant smiles at them and it’s bright, but ever so slightly strained. A liar’s mask. 

They inhale, waiting until their nerves settle before adding, “Thank you, my love.” And running full steam out of Camp Dragonhead like Nidhogg is at their heels with a blown kiss and reddened cheeks. 

**Author's Note:**

> Haurchefant = Good  
xiv tunglr | https://ffxivimagines.tumblr.com/  
main | https://kiriami-sama.tumblr.com/  
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